White Lady
by anuminis
Summary: The grave yard shift goes on a trip to England. They'll find themselves faced with a murder that will change their lives. Very AU! Abandoned.
1. Chapter 1

The wind was rustling through the leaves of an old willow that stood alone upon a hill

The wind was rustling through the leaves of an old willow that stood alone upon a hill. Behind it in the distance light could be seen, lights of an enormous castle. Its lofty gates rose high into the sky. The Berry Pomeroy Castle it was called and it would become the stage for some extraordinary events.

Surrounded by a small wood, it stood like a rock in a dark storming see. The trees, mighty and ancient, were silent witness to the many strange things that had happened on Berry Pomeroy Castle.

So it was and so it will be, for today in the late evening, 2 cabs had arrived with 8 unusual guests. They had been summoned by the lord of the castle to be participants in a game of great importance.

It was a game about life and death, but they did not know this then.

Through the gates, which stood like old giants, withered but not dead. They guarded the courtyard and the mansion that was built into the fortress. Ghostly shadows crept across the yard as the sun sunk deeper.

It should have been a warning for our travellers as the cab drivers unloaded their luggage as fast as they could, keen to get away from there, but they were enchanted by that place like someone had laid a spell on them.

"We awaited you," said a butler with a heavy British accent who had emerged out of one of the creepy shadows. "Please let the luggage be and follow me."  
They did as they were told, following the butler through huge oak doors, wanting to get into the castle because of the chilly wind that came out of nowhere and promised to bring a thunderstorm with it.

The butler led them into a large entrance hall with two curved staircases leading to the upper floor; the banisters were beautifully hand-crafted.

Two doors were on the left side of the hall one on the right, but most imposing were the double doors embedded between the staircases. They were richly ornamented and showed awe-inspiring craftsmanship. On either side of the hall hung portraits. The inhabitants stared arrogantly at the newcomers. "Please wait here," said the butler and vanished through the door on the right side.

The little group huddled close together speaking only in whispers, for they didn't dare to speak louder. "What do you think?" Asked the tall black one. "Creepy," said the slightly smaller one; he had a noticeable Texas accent. "Not the sort of place where I would want to live," said the old sturdy one. "I find it fascinating," said the youngest man of the group.

"Of course you do!" The black one and the Texan said in unison. All three women of the group chuckled, but it died fast. If it was possible the castle felt even colder than outside.

"I don't know," the small blond spoke," but this place gives me the chills." All nodded except for the old tall one, with grey hair who hadn't in participated in their discussion.

"Are all British mansions like this?" The brunette asked, looking at the taller blond one.

"Why are you looking at me?" She answered a light British accent clearly audible.

The brunette looked down and mumbled. "Because of your accent… I thought… you know."

The tall blond rolled her eyes, but it went unnoticed. "Yes my parents are Brits, but I have never set food in this country before," she explained patiently.

At that moment, the great double doors slid open with a horrible creak that made everybody jump. Their eyes fell on the figure that had emerged. After the dim light of the entrance hall they were momentary blinded from the light surrounding the person that approached them now.

Everybody instinctively took a step backwards. The small blonde gripped the arm of the older man and even the Texan unconsciously sought his reassuring strength.

"The baron will receive you now" said a heavily accented British voice and everybody sighed in relief. It was just the butler.

He let them into, what could only be described as a salon. The room was huge, 82ft in length and 30ft wide; its walls were covered in elegant wood panels and expensive silk wall coverings. An enormous fireplace dominated the immense space.

On one side was a large mirror that gave the impression that they stood in a vast hall. As in the entrance hall, the walls were also covered with portraits and pictures of great deeds. The rooms high windows were covered with beautifully colored curtains. It was a breathtaking sight with the interior and the great chandelier adding to the feeling of humble awe.

The little group entered the room in silence.

Before a large banquet table stood a man; he was neither tall nor small, not thick or thin, maybe 50 years old but quite handsome. He looked at his guests, welcoming them with an open embrace. "Welcome, welcome Ladies and Gentlemen it is a pleasure for me to meet you and a pleasure indeed that you have accepted my invitation."

He smiled at them, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was an aurora of sadness around him, sadness and hopelessness – and anger that showed in his unfathomable black eyes. But there was something about him that eased the mind of his guests, so they walked towards him and he welcomed every single one.

"It is an honor to meet you Gilbert Grissom" he said and shook Grissom's hand. "Catherine Willows, Sofia Curtis and Sara Sidle; charming. I hope you'll have a pleasant stay" the baron said as he bowed low and kissed their hands. "You must be Nicholas Stokes" he said as he shook Nick's hand, "my pleasure to meet you." He took his time with Nick, sizing him up and patting him on the shoulder after he had looked deep into his eyes. "Ah and you must be Mr. Stokes friend Warrick Brown; yes" he said and shook Warrick's hand too. "Yes I can see why," he mumbled to himself. His eyes lit up as he reached the sturdy, little man of the group. "Captain Jim Brass. It is an honour, Sir, a real pleasure to meet you. One only has to look you in the eyes to see that you have a really brave heart." The baron bowed low after he had greeted Brass warmly. "And last but not least Mr. Sanders." He greeted the Young Turk.

He then addressed all of them. "Please have a seat," the baron said and indicated to them to sit down. "Your journey must have been long and exhausting." He sat down so did his guests. The baron sat at the table head, Nick, Warrick, Brass and Greg sat to his left, Grissom Catherine, Sofia and Sara on his right side. The table was large and already covered with delicious looking food.

"I won't bore you with a long speech Ladies and Gentlemen, but I am sorry to hold you any longer from this ambrosial meal. I am Sir Berry Pomeroy owner of this land and this beautiful castle," he started.

The storm that was promised by the chilly wind had arrived and as it was with old castles it found its way into it making all kinds of eerie sounds. As the baron talked on, faint mumbling started; it rose and fell with the wind that blew around the walls. It sounded like whispers – whispers that told about stories that had happened in this place, gruesome, awful things. Again they rose and fell and everybody seemed to hear them, but not the baron. The voices rose in agony, so loud as if they were screaming in pain.

„You've been summoned here, because you are the best," the baron said and looked at his guests. Their attention snapped back and the screams subsided. He saw confusion in their eyes and he continued. "A crime will happen here," he said and smiled. "Today, a crime will happen that is so monstrous that I cannot, by the names of my forefathers, name it. You-," he emphasised. "You are here to solve it. Many tried, but failed and the price was death. This task is now appointed to you, should you fail as well it will claim your lives."

Suddenly the light went out; a scream pierced the darkness, so horrible that everybody's heart stopped, as if it was gripped by an invisible hand, cold shudders run down their spines. But it was not the only thing that was gripped. 8 snapping sounds could be heard and our paralyzed CSI's were trapped. "What the-," Nick gasped as he felt the iron claw that was clutching his chest. The light went back on and they saw that everyone was tied to their chairs. Sara screamed and everybody's attention snapped to their host.

The sight that greeted them made everybody say a prayer.

The baron was bloodstained an enormous gash at his neck, the head nearly bit off. The upper part of his torso was ripped; blood dripping down the shirt onto the carpet, the heart was gone - torn out of the chest leaving a bloody hole behind. The eyes had rolled back into the head, laying over on the left shoulder only held, it seemed, by skin and muscles. The mouth was open as if he wanted to scream.

They had seen lots of horrible ravaged bodies, but the sight of the baron was more than disturbing.

Before they knew what had befallen them, the iron bars that held them, snapped back, so did the elegant chairs they were sitting on and a pitch black hole in the floor swallowed them up.

Nick had no time to scream. He slid down a narrow, dark passage and before he knew what was coming he painfully hit the ground. "Umpf" echoed around the place where he landed. Nick groaned as he rubbed his head, his eyes were shut from the pain. He lay there for a moment or two, to let the pain ebb away, before he tried to stand up.

He staggered, feeling dizzy, his hand shot out to try to find some support but felt nothing. Nick stumbled around feeling for a wall or anything to hold onto. After few steps his hand hit a wall and he leaned against it. He tried to see something, but his eyes wouldn't adjust to the darkness that seemed to be ultimate.

Cold, damp air dried his sweating skin. He still couldn't grasp what had happened. All he knew was that the baron, who had invited them, was brutally murdered. He looked back into the abyss of the darkness and a feeling started to spread - a feeling that told him he would meet the same fate should he fail to solve this murder.

Nick closed his eyes and rubbed a shaking hand over them. He had to calm down, he told himself. But an all too familiar feeling spread through his body – panic. This whole situation reminded him of his abduction, he was alone again in an unknown place, surrounded by darkness. At least he could breath, he thought. He took deep calming breaths and tried not to think about it, but he felt his skin prickling. Like thousands of tiny crawlers crept over him. He shook himself instinctively, and then scolded himself for letting his emotion overwhelm him. He had to focus, he needed to keep a clear head, this was an entirely different situation, he could do this alone and find a way out of this.

Feeling that his legs would support him again he followed the wall one hand held in front of him, so that he wouldn't run into something - or someone, his subconscious mind told him. His outstretched hand hit another wall, he followed it.

"Hello?" Nick said with sudden fear in his voice. He thought he heard tiny scratching noises, or was he imagine things? "Hello," he asked again, his voice a bare whisper. Nothing but silence greeted him. He took a deep, calming breath and continued following the wall. This time he hit the next wall faster, giving him the impression that he was in a small chamber.

There it was again. Nick turned around trying to see something, but couldn't make out anything. Shivers run down his spine. There was something with him. He stood still, listening.

One minute, two minutes, five. Nothing. He gulped fighting the rising panic in his chest that was affecting his heart. Willing himself to go on he followed the wall and luckily felt a door. He could breathe the rotten wood. Searching for a handle, he grabbed it and pulled it, but the door was closed.

Nick huddled himself flat against the door breathing sharply. Something had brushed his thigh. He listened - there it was! Tiny scratching noises and some kind of gargle.

Nick closed his eyes. He was not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The wind was rustling through the leaves of an old willow that stood alone upon a hill

Warrick groaned and rubbed his head. What a hell of a ride, he thought, as he stood up. He staggered, but luckily didn't lose his balance.

Darkness surrounded him and he could smell the damp air in here. He walked around and found a door. Must be his gambler luck, he chuckled, but it died fast as he remembered why he was here in the first place. The gruesome memories flooded back into his mind. What had happened here he asked himself as he re-lived the scene in his mind?

They'd arrived in the salon where their host had given a welcoming speech which had ended with him saying they had to solve a murder; if not they would die. Now he knew which murder, but that didn't help him much.

Warrick jumped and cried as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around like a bolt of lightning. "Who's there," he whispered into the darkness his own voice not allowing a louder volume. Nobody answered him.

Felling his heartbeat going almost normal again he turned towards the door and pulled the handle.

The door opened silently which astounded Warrick; he'd thought it would screech and scream. The moment the door opened a chilly breath rushed past Warrick giving him shivers.

Warrick had an ungodly feeling and his heart started to race again. It felt like hands touching him and he also thought he heard sobbing as the wind rushed past him. But the most disturbing thing for his scientific brain was, that the wind came out of the chamber not the other way around.

He turned and looked into the chamber trying to see something. A faint light illuminated that hallway he had entered and he saw, after his eyes had adjusted, that the chamber had no windows.

A sobbing noise caught Warrick's attention and he tried to locate its origin. There down that hallway where the light came from. For a few seconds Warrick was unsure if he should follow the sound or not. He thought of Nick and the others, he had to find them to solve this mystery and he had to start somewhere.

Walking cautiously down the dim lit hallway he turned around a corner holding his breath, but there was nothing there. Except another door and a torch who's light kindled calmly. And yet again Warrick heard the sobbing sound, but it was now directly behind him. He turned around and in this very moment a series of events happened. Another wind came out of nowhere and brushed past him, fingers lightly touching him. The torch down the hallway flickered and died and a scream pierced the silence of the dungeons.

"HELP!"

Warrick turned around so fast, for a second he thought he had snapped his neck, but the pain and the thought ebbed away as panic washed over him. That scream belonged to Nick! He tried to run down the hallway but the sudden darkness made it hard.

"Help!" There! It was coming from that direction; Warrick thought and fumbled his way to the door he saw earlier.

Someone was in there! Nick was in there, Warrick thought. He was banging at the door screaming for help. And there was another sound – low hissing and gurgling. Something was in there with Nick.

As he fumbled for the handle, the banging stopped and silence fell over the scene. "No," Warrick said as he searched for the door handle. Fear and panic flooded his mind, he had to get to Nick. It was as if he was kneeling on the coffin all over again. The fear he hadn't made it in time. He turned the handle and ripped the door open.

Catherine winced as she regained consciousness again. She lay flat on the ground where she had hit the floor after her ride through hell.

As she tried to push herself up, the images of the baron and the shocked faces of Nick and Warrick popped up and she shivered. Bringing herself to a sitting position she hugged herself tightly to master her feelings again. The little fear bubble inside her didn't burst, but at least her brain allowed herself to think straight again.

To get out of here alive, she had to solve the puzzle; had to find her friends. Only as a team, she thought, would they have a chance.

Lightening flashed and illuminated the room Catherine sat in. Bare seconds later, the roar of thunder followed. Catherine stood up and looked around. From what she had seen through the lightning she stood in a kind of study. There were bookshelves all over the place and an enormous oak desk stood at the back of the room. Another flash of light and she could see the pale face of the baron in a portrait looking silently back at her.

She shivered again.

Turning around she faced another bookshelf and a elegant door on the left side of the room. Bracing herself she walked towards it, the thick carpet muffling the sound of her footsteps. She reached for the doorknob and turned it around, the door opened silently revealing a dark hallway.

Catherine tried to see something in the dark, but couldn't. A creak behind her made her jump, she was barely holding back a scream. Turning around she prayed that this was just her imagination.

There was nothing there. Another flash illuminated the room and only the baron looked pleadingly back at her.

Catherine sign in relief and turned back to leave the room.

Another creak made her stop; it was now in front of her. Standing quite still she listened hard. Maybe it was just the old masonry that groaned under the storm. She started to leave, but another sound made her stop dead in her tracks. It was the most unexpected sound in this mansion – the cry of an infant.

There – it was quite clear. Catherine turned around and moved back into the room, the cry became louder and more sorrowful.

The storm grew louder and more fierce, rain poured against the windows, lightning flashed accompanied by deafening thunder. The cry was now so loud that it easily could be heard over the rolling thunder. Then it stopped abruptly and left Catherine with a feeling of great unease and foreboding.

She turned around and screamed.

Before her stood a woman, another flash illuminated the scene. The woman had pitch black, long hair that fell into her face. It was filthy dirty framing an ash gray face. Her eyes glinted maliciously.

The woman didn't flinch as Catherine screamed, but her lips turned into a twisted, evil smile.

She stared at Catherine like a bird of prey and launched forward.


	3. Chapter 3

The wind was rustling through the leaves of an old willow that stood alone upon a hill

Sofia woke up, dizzy and disoriented. She lay flat on her back; touching around her she felt soft fabrics, which bent under her fingers.

She tried to sit up, but her head was spinning and she felt sick, her skull throbbed painfully.  
Laying back down Sofia realized that she was on a bed. That thought made her sit up again. Breathing hard, she squinted into the surrounding darkness, but couldn't see anything. She had the feeling that there was someone with her!

Sofia pushed her legs over the edge and let them dangle down the bedside. She still felt dizzy and rested her head in one of her hands. What a day, she thought.

She knew there was something fishy about all of this from the beginning. Why hadn't she said so? But now wasn't the time to be crying over spilled milk. The first lightning struck and the following thunder startled her, she hadn't noticed that there was a deafening silence around her.

Feeling the dizziness subside, Sofia slid from the bed and walked towards the windows. From there she could see a sea of black shadows waving in the storm. Another lightning flashed and illuminated the forest. Sofia shivered as she saw the gruesome, deformed figures of the trees, it looked like they were alive, waiting for her, daring her to come outside.

She turned around and leaned against the windowsill, a shadow moved fast past her, but she didn't notice it.

What exactly had happen here, she asked herself and where the hell were the others? She tried to remember precisely what had occurred back there, but couldn't figure how the baron was killed in such a short time period. Only bare seconds had past before the light went back on. It was just not enough time to rip out a heart and cut off a head.

Sofia sighed. It was just not possible.

She remained silent; there were more lightening strikes but they didn't bother her, she was too absorbed in her own world. After a few minutes Sofia looked up, two questions kept coming back again and again.

Where was the butler? And what role did he play in all this?

Taking a deep breath Sofia started to walk, being a skilled investigator she had already analyzed the room she was in. Crossing it, she stopped in the middle of it as she heard a strange noise. That could not be what she thought it was! No way! She listened harder, but there was no mistake.

It was the despairing cry of a baby. It grew louder and louder, a flash then a deafening thunder, then silence.

Sofia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she had a very bad feeling and it was affirmed as a scream pierced the darkness. Sofia grabbed instinctively at her right side, but her revolver was in Las Vegas and her spare revolver with the luggage, damn it!

None the less she started to run towards the scream.

Nick pressed himself flat against the door. His whole body was tense like a bow string, his heart was pumping adrenalin through his veins. Determination replaced fear. If he was going to die then he would do it standing and not without a fight.

A growl told him the "it" would attack him any moment, but before Nick could do anything he heard movements behind him and then suddenly the door was gone and he fell backwards. At the same time the thing launched forward.

Warrick ripped the door open. He felt someone fall backwards and he instinctively grabbed the person and tore them out of the room. At the same time he slammed the door shut.

Something banged against it, angry hissing and growling could be heard, then an attempt to open the door, then silence.

Warrick took a deep breath, not realizing that he had been holding his breath. "Nick?" he whispered as he knelt next to the form he had rescued from…whatever it was.

"Yeah," came the short answer. "Damn it you could have…," but Nick didn't have time to finish his sentence before two strong arms nearly crushed him as Warrick hugged him tight.

"Thank god," he whispered into Nick's shoulder. He felt so relieved and exhausted that he didn't care that he was hugging Nick in such an intimate way.

At first Nick didn't know what to do or to say, he had never seen Warrick lose his poker face before, but then he just hugged him back. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem, man," Warrick answered and finally let Nick go, though reluctantly.

"Are you okay?" he asked Nick and tried to see him through the darkness.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Nick answered and rubbed the back of his head. "Though, my head is killing me right now. Two bangs in a row tend to do that."

Warrick smiled apologetically. "Sorry, man. But better a headache than being ripped into pieces." He shuddered at the thought.

"Point taken," Nick said and felt how his hair on the back of his neck stood up.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Nick asked and tried to stand up.

"No". Warrick answered and helped Nick up.

Nick leaned against the wall, Warrick stood right in front of him a hand on Nick's shoulder. "You really okay?" he asked with concern in his voice.

Nick shook his head and regretted it immediately. "I'm fine. Really, just a little bit dizzy, that's all."

"Okay," said Warrick, but he would watch Nick closely from now on. He couldn't risk anything happening to him; not again..

At that moment a whisper made both of them jump. _"Nicholas," _sobbed a eerie, distant voice.  
_"Nicholas."_

Warrick placed himself protectively in front of Nick; they were so close that they could feel each others heart beat. Nick gulped and closed his eyes. _"Nicholas,"_ the voice sobbed again, it was the voice of a woman.

Warrick turned his head towards the voice. "Who's there?" he whispered.

_"Nicholas, my love,"_ came the answer and Nick blew out a shuddering breath. Warrick shivered as he felt Nick's hot breath on his chest.

"Who's there?" he repeated. But the only answer he got was the chilly wind that blew past them. He followed it with his head and saw a faint light in the far distance of the passage.

Someone or something was coming in their direction.


	4. Chapter 4

The wind was rustling through the leaves of an old willow that stood alone upon a hill

Brass growled like a angry dog as he rolled himself on his back. Every bone in his body ached from when he hit the floor. He cursed who ever was responsible for this.  
Someone is going to pay for this, he thought, as he sat up and rubbed his shoulder where he got shot once. He looked around and saw a flash of lightning through a small cross-barred cellar window. A deafening roar announced the rain that started now to drop heavily out of the thunderclouds.

"What the hell did we get ourselves into?" he asked himself as he stood up and walked towards the window. He watched the thick rain drops as they splashed down the stone floor, replaying the incident in his head trying to figure out what had happened, but couldn't come up with any clue that would bring him an answer. He needed to find the others to solve this; he just hoped that they had landed in some place better than his.

A creak caught his attention. He turned around and saw the door slowly swinging open. With three long strides Brass crossed the chamber his hand on his hip, it took him two seconds to realize that he had no gun with him. "Damn it," he cursed and stopped in his movements.

He leaned against the wall and tried to see something through the open door; in the far distance he could see the flicker of a torch. Slowly, he pushed the door further open.

Brass imagined seeing the butler with a bloody ax waiting for him behind the door and snickered. It was always the butler, wasn't it? Or maybe the gardener, but he didn't know if there were any here.

The door bumped into the wall and he knew that at least no one was lurking behind it. He stepped cautiously outside and looked in both directions. The passage was empty and he let out a breath.

He was about to walk in the direction of the torch light when he saw two red eyes in the darkness moving fast towards him. Before he could do anything a black shadow past over him emitting a high pierced cry.

"A bat," Brass said relieved. "What the fuck! That damn little beast," he spat as he saw what the bat had left on his shoulder. "I don't believe it," he bitched as he walked towards the torch light wiping the bat guano off his shoulder with a handkerchief; his momentary fear forgotten.

After a short walk he reached the torch and took it, in that moment someone screamed near by.

"No! Help!"

Catherine tried to get the woman off of her but she was too strong. She screamed and scratched at her like an angry cat; her filthy hands trying to grab Catherine's throat.

The lightning flashed and Catherine could see the insane eyes of the woman that was trying to kill her. She wanted to scream but couldn't; the woman had finally got her hands around her throat and was now choking her with unnatural strength.

Catherine tried a weak attempt to stop her but the edges around her view started to blur and darken. All her strength left her and the last thing she saw was Lindsey smiling and laughing at her as she started to run towards her. She tried to breathe but couldn't; tears dripped down her cheeks. Still the woman kneeled over her choking her but then something caught her attention.

Sofia burst into the room; the light of a flash illuminated the bizarre scene in front of her. She didn't waste a second as she saw Catherine lying unconscious on the floor and ran towards her.

The woman who was kneeling over Catherine a second ago was now standing in front of Sofia with a predatory smile on her face. She jumped at Sofia; hands formed into claws.

Sofia reacted fast; she used the momentum of her attacker and threw her across her shoulder. The woman screamed; a cry like that of a dying animal and vanished before she even hit the ground.

Sofia stood there breathing hard, her heart raced and her head tried to process what just happened. Did this woman really vanish right before her eyes?

But before she could think any further she heard a soft moan and turned towards Catherine who still lay on the floor.

Kneeling beside her she took her pulse and tried to look Catherine in the face.

"Catherine." She said and slapped her lightly on the cheek. "Catherine, can you hear me?"

Another soft moan and than Catherine slowly opened her eyes. "Sofia," she said with a hoarse whisper. The lightning flashed and blinded her, she squeezed her eyes shut and groaned.

"Yes" Sofia answered. "How do you feel? Is everything alright?"

"Dizzy." Was all Catherine could say, she tried to sit up. Sofia helped her.

"What happened?" Sofia wanted to know. She put her arm around Catherine to comfort her.

"Don't know. She was suddenly there and attacked me." Her throat throbbed painfully and she rubbed it still taking deep gulps of air.

Sofia nodded, rubbing her hand down Catherine's back. "Can you stand up?" She asked. She wanted to find the others as soon as possible. Who knew what other lunatics might show up? And that the woman just vanished into thin air made her feel uncomfortable. She hated it, when she couldn't explain things Rationally.

"Let's try" Catherine answered, getting some of her strength and determination back now that Sofia was with her.

With her help she stood up, still shaking but more confident. Seeing her daughter's face moments before she lost consciousness made her realize that she had no intention of dying in a foreign country. She was going to survive this together with the others; they just had to find them. She didn't know how wrong she was.

"Okay we better find the others" Sofia said and Catherine smiled.

"Yeah, let's go."

They made their way out of the room, not looking back. Rain patted against the windows, a bolt of lightning cracked over the forest illuminating the study. The dark haired woman stood in front of the oak desk smiling cruelly, her dark eyes glinted maliciously. Her form flickered like a bad TV reception then she vanished on the spot.


	5. Chapter 5

The wind was rustling through the leaves of an old willow that stood alone upon a hill

Greg lay flat on his back; his arms and legs sprawled like that of a badly wounded animal.

He'd regained consciousness half an hour ago, but still couldn't find strength to move, beyond turning over on his back.

God he felt so awful; this hadn't been in the job description; well killing a man and getting beat up by a mob hadn't been either. He sometimes wished he was back in his lab. There was only the risk of getting blown away or get accidental shot by Bobby

Damn it, his mother was right.

"Oh god," he mumbled. I'm being stupid; he thought and groaned as he tried to sit up. The sudden change in levels didn't agree with his stomach; leaning to his side Greg puked his guts out. He lay back down, squirming away from the puddle of vomit, searching for something to wipe his mouth.

He closed his eyes, but images of the mutilated body flashed in his mind and he pressed his fingers into his eyes to shoo them away. Stars appeared before his inner eye and flecks of light, dancing like a kaleidoscope.

"Damn it," Greg said and shuddered, his hands flopped back down on the cold stone floor. The flecks started to fade as another flash of bright light danced over his inner eyes. Seconds later a deafening roar echoed through the room Greg was in.

He flinched and opened his eyes. A black mass spread before him, the dim light of distant lightning illuminated the chamber. It was circular with low cellar windows and a door, but the light couldn't reach the ceiling, because there seemed to be none.

Another series of flashes cracked over the castle and illuminated the chamber.

Greg' eyes widened in shock; the walls of the chamber, or tower as he saw now, were covered in bloody writing.

TRAITOR – WHORE – HE'S MINE – YOU ARE GOING TO DIE – I KILL YOU – WHY?

Why? Why? It echoed in Greg's head. The words repeated themselves over and over again. Like a mantra.

Oh god, Greg thought and closed his eyes again. Why the hell did this happen to him? He wouldn't – couldn't think of the others, momentary fear stunned his body; bolts of lightning cracked over the castle restlessly accompanied by a dark symphony of thunders.

And then- then everything went quiet. But still Greg could see a light through his eyelids. It was steady and seemed to grow more intent as it came closer towards him. He opened his eyes and was shocked speechless. Two angel like figures were floating above him.

They looked like women, one with long blond curly hair and a kind smile on her face, the other was brunet and also had long curly hair, but her face was stern. She looked like that woman in the portrait down in the entrance hall, which Greg had found so fascinating. She had something to her, something noble and aristocratic, though she didn't smile like the other woman, she was none the less beautiful and Greg found himself getting aroused by the sight.

He blushed and tried to look away, but couldn't. The two women floated closer to him; they were so close that Greg could see their eyelashes. He should have been able to feel their body heat and breath but there was none.

This fact made Greg uncomfortable, not that it wasn't scary enough to have two women or whatever, fly above you.

A crash of thunder stopped Greg's thought process, he cringed and closed his eyes, as he opened them again he wasn't greeted by the sight of two beautiful women. No. They had turned, with the roar, into two frightening Harpies.

Their eyes glinted maliciously as they pushed their claws into Greg's chest; he wanted to scream, but no sound came; instead there was this high piercing scream that came out of the beak of the brunet Harpy.

Pain flooded his whole body and his eyes widened in terror as he felt himself being lifted upwards. Greg looked at his chest and nearly fainted; there was blood everywhere. He felt nauseous again, his mind wanted to slip away but he fought to stay conscious and prayed to God that this was only a bad dream - a highly vivid dream.

But God seemed to have no mercy for him and the tower no roof. Higher and higher they took him, claws tearing his flesh. The sound of thunder freed Greg from his shock. He screamed for all he was worth.

"No. Help!"

It was dark and cold, that was the first two things that Sara noticed as she slowly regained consciousness again. And silence, it was too silent for her liking. She felt uncomfortable and tried to move, but couldn't. It felt like something was restraining her. She moaned; her body felt so heavy. She tried to move a finger, but her body wouldn't respond.

Come on, she thought and tried it again. Nothing.

A sudden fear spread through her body, she couldn't move, did she break something? But she felt no pain. What then could it be? She needed to see, but her eyelids were so heavy. Only slowly did she will them to open. At a first glance she could see nothing; everything was black. Her eyelids fell shut and Sara had to breathe hard, as if she'd run a marathon. Even breathing was hard; it seemed unnatural.

She fought her eyes back open and in this very moment the first lightning struck followed by a booming thunder.

Sara closed her eyes again; this time because of what she had seen. She shivered mentally, her body wouldn't – couldn't do it.

Before her was a ceiling high mirror and she had seen herself in it; sitting in a wing chair, lifeless like a human size doll.

The shouting seemed to agitate the Harpies even more; they screamed this time an ear shattering screech and flew him even higher, claws digging deeper. The pain became worse; to the point that Greg couldn't bear it anymore. The edge around his vision started to darken, but the Harpies had no intention of just letting him faint.

One of them thrust her beak in his neck and slit it open. Greg screamed and watched in horror as his arterial spray hit the face of the Harpy. His heart began to race, the thumping in his ears became louder and louder and then the Harpies let go of him and he fell.

Fell down, still bleeding, but wide awake thanks to the adrenalin that pumped through his veins. He would feel the impact, would feel the last drop of his blood leaving his body; he knew he would experience his death knowing that he could do nothing, knowing what was happening to him. He had seen it more than enough to know that it wouldn't be - painless and peaceful.

And then he hit the ground. Incredible pain shot through his body, the air in his lungs was pressed out and tears came to his eyes. He'd imagined it would be more painful, as he lay there staring at the dark abyss above him. For a moment he could see nothing, but then four red eyes appeared rushing towards him.

Greg himself was astounded as he lifted himself up, preparing to stand and fight. The red specks came closer and closer.

In that moment, the door opened and Greg turned towards it ready for another horror. He was surprised to see Brass step through the door holding a torch.

Then something hit his head and he turned back, seeing a small black wing attacking him. Fear spread through him and he started to swing his arms in panic trying to chase them away.

Brass ran towards him swinging his torch as well, trying to calm Greg down.

"Greg! Calm down. They're only bats. Do you hear me? They're only bats!" Brass shouted and put a comforting hand on Greg's shoulder.

"What," Greg asked in disbelieve. He looked around and saw no sign of the Harpies.

"Brass?" he said.

"The very own," Brass answered and squeezed Greg's shoulder.

Greg touched his chest and looked down at it. In the light of the torch he could see nothing, no blood no ripped flesh. He touched his neck and felt around. No slash. No blood. Did he just dream it all?

He looked at Brass who watched him carefully. "You okay kid?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah." Greg said and nodded his head.

"Good, then let's go. We better find the others." Brass marched towards the door leaving Greg alone; he jumped and followed as fast as he could. He hadn't noticed the long scratch that was exactly at the same spot the Harpy had slashed his neck.


	6. Chapter 6

Warrick stepped back to let Nick some space to breath, still watching the nearing light

Warrick stepped back to give Nick some space to breath, still watching the nearing light. His whole body tensed ready to fight whatever this damn place was throwing at them.

"I hope it's not the butler," Nick whispered after he'd recovered from the fright the voice had given him.

Warrick looked in disbelieve at him, he never figured out how Nick could still make jokes or even have a sense of humor in such situations, especially after what just happened.

Nick smiled at him and shrugged nonchalantly. "It's always the butler. Haven't you read any crime fiction?"

Warrick shook his head, but couldn't help himself and smiled. He'd almost forgotten that there was someone coming, but distant footsteps brought him back to reality.

Nick also focused on the approaching footsteps, though he still felt dizzy, he made himself ready to fight, if he had to.

Seconds past by like hours. Warrick thought to run and hide, but with Nick still dizzy and shaken that was not an option. They wouldn't have gotten far in the darkness of the dungeon. But before he could think any further the light grew stronger and around the corner appeared the torch that was spreading it followed by two familiar faces.

Both men sigh in relief.

"Brass!" Nick said and smiled.

"Your faithful servant," Brass said as he came closer; Greg slouched behind him.

"I thought it was the butler," Nick chuckled and Warrick rolled his eyes.

"Me too." Brass said. "It's always the butler." He said lightly

"See." Nick nudged Warrick in the ribcage. Warrick rolled his eyes.

"How can you two be so unconcerned?" He asked. "Nick was nearly killed, man. And don't forget what that bloody baron said, let alone that freaking voice! It gave me the chills!"

Nick went quiet.

"What voice? And who tried to kill Nick?" Brass asked anger in his voice.

Both men were silent. Warrick didn't know, if Brass would believe them or not.

"Something tried to kill me." Nick said. "In there." He pointed at the door and became aware that he was too close to it. He stepped past Brass and Greg to get some space between him and the door. Also Warrick was a strong man, Nick felt more comfortable, now that Jim was with them. Brass and Warrick watched him with concern.

"What voice," Brass pressed, fixing Warrick with his blue eyes.

"Don't know, man." Warrick said defensively. "There was this creepy voice calling Nick." He shuddered at the thought.

Brass looked at Nick, who didn't look too good at the moment.

"It was scary," Warrick added and Nick nodded.

"Why are you so quiet Greg?" Nick asked trying to change the subject.

The young man snapped out of his trance and stared at Nick. "W-what?" He asked dumbly.

Brass let Nick's feeble attempt slip by and focused on Greg instead.

"I said; why are you so quiet? Everything okay? "Nick asked again.

"I," Greg started then thought otherwise. "It's nothing; I'm fine," he said.

"If you say it like that, it sure is something." Nick said looking Greg up and down. "What's that scratch on your neck?"

"Scratch?" Greg said horrified, reaching for his neck.

"Yeah, there." Nick drew the scratch on Greg's neck. Greg shuddered from the touch.

"Ah its nothing," Brass interrupted. "He got attacked by bats, that's all. One of the damn beasts shit on me; so be careful." He added.

"Hm," Greg agreed, it was a better explanation then him being attacked by Harpies. He shuddered.

Nick felt that Greg was hiding something; he was not scared by some bats or he would have made fun of it right now. No something else must have shocked him to the core. He fixed him with one of his no-shit glances and pressed forward.

"Greg you're not scared of those bats. Tell us what happened. It's best to know everything so we can come out of this alive."

Warrick and Brass were surprised by Nick's change of voice; he himself was. "Please," he added.

Greg opened his mouth trying to find the right word's then closed it again. He knew that Nick would take no shit from him, when he was like this. Usually, Nick was only like this with him; Greg sometimes wondered why.

"Don't give us the carp impression. Spill it," Warrick said unnerved; he wanted to get the hell out of here.

"I… there were Harpies. They attacked me," he said in a small voice, barely audible. "But I must have dreamed it, there can't be Harpies, can there?" he added.

The other three men shared a glance. Nick and Warrick remained silent, after what had happened they weren't so sure anymore.

"Aw come on!" Brass said. "You guy's won't tell me that there are such things as ghosts and Harpies! Someone is playing a sick joke on us. That's all! Greg probably hit his head too hard, too many times."

"I don't know Jim," Nick said, his voice unsure. "I don't know."

--

The first thing Grissom felt, after he slowly regained consciousness again, was pressure on his body. Someone was lying on top of him.

He remained still, trying to remember what had happened in his dream. It was the most absurd dream he had in the past few years; it was only topped by the appearance of "Henry Withersbone", the zombie, in his office.

He and his team went for a trip to England, which alone was funny enough. But being summoned there by a baron to try and solve his own murder? He should stop drinking too much coffee.

The body moved and Grissom was ripped out of his thought process. Feeling the presence of another person wasn't something that he was used to, though it wasn't unwelcome. With the years passing by, Grissom had started to yearn for someone in his life that would fill the space in his heart that was still vacated.

A smile flashed in his mind accompanied by beautiful brown eyes. He felt his heart aching and tried to breathe.

The second thing he felt was a heaviness on his body that made it almost impossible for him to breathe and it was definitely not the body on top of him that caused it.

He opened his eyes, just as a lightning flash illuminated the room. The rooms high windows draped in elegant decorations brought Grissom back to reality and realisation hit him like an avalanche.

He was still in England, still in the castle… and someone was lying on top of him! He freaked trying to move, but couldn't. Something was restraining him.

The sudden movements woke the person that was lying on top of Grissom. A blond, curly head rose from Grissom's chest and the first thing Grissom saw wasn't the face, but two bright red gleaming eyes. A series of lightning bolt's cracked over the castle and Grissom was able to see the angelic face of the woman, she smiled revealing two sharp fangs and blood dripping from her mouth. The woman licked the blood away and started to caress Grissom's cheek, turning Grissom's head softly to the side; with out warning she launched forward and bit him.

Grissom screamed.


	7. Chapter 7

Brass looked at Nick in disbelieve, but restrained himself from saying anything further

Brass looked at Nick in, disbelief but restrained himself from saying anything further. It wouldn't help them to start an argument now.

"Okay this isn't helping," Warrick said. "I suggest that we get the hell out of here and then we can discuss, if Ghosts or Harpies really exist. Did you see a stair or something like that?" He asked Brass. "Back there are only dead ends." Warrick pointed behind him.

Brass shook his head. "No, but there is another crossing, we can go, see if there is a way up."

The small group started to move; the torch flickered and cast wicked shadows. Four deformed shadows followed them, but sometimes it seemed that there was a fifth shadow that crept behind them.

They walked silently through the dark and damp passage; passing occasionally a murky and ominous door. No one dared to open them, but they kept listening hard, for signs of their missing friends.

After a few minutes they reached the crossing and stopped. The passage that Brass was pointing at seemed even darker and gloomier than the other one; the light could not penetrating more than 6 feet into the darkness.

"Spooky," Greg said watching the dark barrier in front of them.

"There is no way around it," Nick said; he felt nervous, the glooming darkness clawed at his heart, but he was determined to go on.

"I'll take the lead; follow me." Brass said and started to move; the darkness didn't give way. Nick and the others hurried to stay close to Brass.

The darkness closed behind them, gulping them entirely, only the small bubble of light surrounded them.

"Don't touch anything," Nick whispered. The words fell from his lips so muffled the others could hardly hear him.

They walked slowly and cautiously; their bodies tensed painfully and their hearts began to race like they were running a marathon; even Brass felt uncomfortable. The looming darkness before him seemed to have no end.

Nick halted and turned around; he thought he had heard something. Warrick bumped into him.

"What?" He asked; his word barely reached Brass and Greg.

Nick looked past him into the gloom listening.

"What's up" Brass asked. He and Greg had stopped and turned to watch Nick and Warrick.

"I thought I heard something," he said.

They went silent – listening.

Nothing. Not even the thunder storm growling over the castle. It was so quiet that they could even hear the beating of their own hearts.

But then suddenly there it was – heavy, even breathing.

"Where?" Greg started, but was interrupted by Brass.

"Shhhhh!" He hissed.

The breathing stopped, but it left them all in fear.

--

Grissom woke up to the sound of dripping. He felt dizzy and his body was still heavy; only slowly did his memory return. Did this really happen, he asked himself, or was it just a dream in a dream?

The dripping continued and Grissom flinched every time a drop hit the ground. He didn't dare to open his eyes, he felt like he was waking up from a nightmare, but the throbbing pain in his neck told him it was brutal reality. Or was it? His rational mind still couldn't grasp what had happened to him, his team.

He ripped his eyes open; his team! Damn it! He hoped they weren't having the same nightmare he had.

He winced as a drop hit him in the face. "What the hell," he mumbled groggily and then he saw it through the light of another flash. His eyes widened in shock and horror. Nick's body hung above him at the canopy, his lifeless eyes starring down at him; blood dripped from a gash on his neck.

Everything went dark again. "No," Grissom screamed; terrified. That couldn't be real! Not Nick!

He tried to move, but his body wouldn't respond. Grissom struggled desperately, his only thought was to get to Nick, he might not be dead yet. His body wouldn't budge. Grissom closed his eyes in exhaustion and defeat, he couldn't open them. He couldn't watch Nick die.

No, he thought, you have to find a way; you can't let him down again. Slowly and with dread he opened his eyes.

But this time, it wasn't Nick's body that hung above him – no. This time it was a brunet haired woman; her eyes glinted maliciously. She let herself fall down on Grissom like an angelic bird of prey and clawed her blood red fingernails in Grissom's chest. He screamed in agony.

She only turned his head to the side and sank her sharp teeth into his neck.

--

The surrounding darkness seemed even darker than before, if that was possible.

"We should go," Warrick said glancing nervously into the gloom.

"But," Greg said; he felt his knees weaken.

"Do you want to stay and wait for whatever it is?" Nick hissed. Greg gulped and shook his head.

Nick walked past him; he wasn't all too keen to meet the heavy breathing thing; neither was Warrick. They continued their journey; it seemed endless. No doors or other things they saw, but cold, wet stone walls. The heavy breathing didn't seem to have followed them, but that didn't help their mood; the situation was more than depressing.

After what could have been half an hour they finally reached another crossing. On both sides of the new passages stood grotesque and misshapen figures hewed in stone. As the torch light fell on their faces it seemed that they came alive staring down at them.

There was something enchanted about them. Greg approached one of them slowly, a particular gross and ugly one. It had its tongue stuck out, as if to mock them. He reached for the tongue.

"Don't touch it," Nick said, but too late. Greg's hand had already brushed it. At the same moment dozens of hidden holes, in the wall facing the passage they had come from, opened and arrows flew at them.

"Down!" Nick yelled grabbing Greg and pulling him with him on the stone floor. Warrick and Brass reacted in time; the deadly arrows flew above them into the looming darkness. For a few moments it seemed the torch in Brass' hands would die, but luckily for them it didn't.

A loud and awful howl behind them made everybody jump. Nick's hair on the back of his neck stood up; the arrows must have hit the heavy breather, he thought. He scrambled to his feet, lifting Greg up with him.

"I said; don't touch anything," he hissed angrily.

"Damn it Greg do you want to kill us all?" Warrick added to Nick's angry outburst.

Brass brushed his jacket off as he stood up, glaring at Greg, but said nothing.

"Which way now? Brass asked. "Though it seems the arrows hit a target, I wouldn't put it past this place to have something else behind us." After his long walk through the unnatural dark, now even Brass wasn't so sure anymore.

They stood there in a moment of silence, thinking. Greg stared ashamed at the ground, he didn't know why he had touched the tongue. It seemed that he hadn't had control over his actions at that time.

A strange noise brought them all back.

"Left or right?" Warrick asked.

"Let's toss a coin," Nick suggested. Warrick, Brass and Greg looked at him in surprise.

"What," he asked and rolled his eyes. God he wasn't going to faint or something, just because it so happened that another coin toss nearly killed him. If Warrick had won and thus had gotten the trash run, who knows what would have happened to him! Nick didn't want to think about it; instead he pulled a coin out of his pocket. That damn coin was still there; the cleaner must have missed it. A good sign he hoped and tossed the coin.

"Heads we go left; tails we go right," he said. The coin flew into the air and he caught it with ease; even in the dim light of the torch. He slapped the coin down on his hand and looked at it; it was heads.

"Left it is then," he said and they all looked in the passage, the two statues that guarded it looked at them in silence.

--


	8. Chapter 8

Where was she

A/N:

Wow my first try writing NC-17; so humor me if you don't find it sexy enough lol A fair warning there will be a "death" but...

Title: White Lady  
Author: **anuminis**

Beta: by the wonderful **jayceepat** Thank you!  
Category: AU (VERY!) Horror, Supernatural  
Spoilers: none  
Rating: NC-17  
WARNING: **"Possible character death!"** threesome

--

Where was she? And why couldn't she move?

Sara was still trying to move her body, but it just wouldn't respond. She thought of Grissom; why wasn't he here to help her? Where the hell were the others? She felt abandoned and isolated but most of all she felt betrayed by Grissom.

The giggling of a child brought her thoughts back to her trapped body. At first it was faint but it came closer and closer with every passing second.

She wasn't alone! But who could it be; she hadn't noticed any children when they first arrived.

Who is there, she wanted to ask, her pulse started to rise, but her mouth wouldn't speak the desired words.

Sara willed her eyes to open; the giggling had stopped right in front of her. It was still dark; the only illumination coming from the flashes of lightning. But there was no one standing before her.

The giggling continued, this time it came from Sara's left side; she wanted to turn her head around, but her useless body didn't allow it.

She tried to see something out of the corner of her eye, but the wings of the chair blocked her view.

Sara freaked as a little girl appeared, out of nowhere, before her.

The girl was beautiful, 7 or 8 years old and her thin golden hair reached to the floor. In her left hand she held a porcelain doll with brown hair and elegant clothing. She giggled, her form flickering like a bad TV reception.

"Look mother," she said, with a clearly audible British accent. Her voice was sweet and alluring, but it held also a tone of slyness and malice.

"Look; I have a new doll."

--

Catherine and Sofia walked in silence, they would hear anybody first before they would see them. The corridor was dark and lifeless; no sound could be heard, except for their own muffled footsteps. There were doors on each side; paintings and statues, chests of drawers and single standing chairs decorated it.

Every time they came near one of those statues they slowed down, someone or something could lurk behind them. Sofia didn't want take any; Catherine was still not at her top game and Sofia would have trouble trying to defend them both, if it came to that.

"We need light," she mumbled and Catherine agreed with a nod.

A flash of lightning followed by the low rumble of thunder announced their arrival into another part of the castle. They saw the flash through a row of windows high on the wall of the great room.

The windows were now draped in elegant material that glittered in the bolts of lightning that lit up the room. _They must have silver threads woven into them,_ Catherine thought. She halted and looked out one of the huge windows.

She could make out the forms of the giant gate towers that had loomed over them when they entered the castle. Seeing them now meant that they were looking down on the courtyard . It was dark and seemed undisturbed by the passing thunderstorm.

"Come on," Sofia urged Catharine to move on; she had a bad feeling, as if they were watched. She thought of the dark haired woman and shuddered.

They moved on past the windows, occasionally a lightning bolt would strike above the forest throwing their shadows on the facing wall. Sometimes a third shadow would appear not too far behind them clawing at the shadows of Sofia and Catherine.

--

His head swivelled and hurt to the point that Grissom wanted to die just so the pain would go away. He'd regained consciousness again a couple of minutes ago; he wished he hadn't. There was no sign of the two vamp--… women, but he still couldn't move. He really didn't want to, even if he could.

The image of Nick's lifeless body had burned itself onto Grissom's retina's and every time he closed his eyes he would see it, see Nick. The blood dripping down his slashed throat and the eyes that had looked at him. Those once beautiful and expressive eyes had been nothing more than dead, white specks in the darkness.

NO! He couldn't think of Nick dead; that would make it final and his heart wouldn't survive it.

Lightning flashed; closely followed by a deafening roar of thunder. Grissom flinched, the light and the noise, intensifying the pain in his already overloaded mind. As if it was a sign, the two vampires crawled up on the bed, leering at him and touching him all over. One of them tears open his bloodstained shirt leaving red welts on his bare chest as her other hand claws at him.

Grissom closes his eyes in disbelief; this can't be happening…no! He feels himself getting aroused. He bites back a moan as the blond vampire strokes his hardening member through his jeans.

No, No he thinks and shakes his head. He feels a wet tongue licking at the red marks on his chest. The blond is rubbing her fingers over the bulge in his jeans and she slowly reaches for his belt. Her mouth brushes lightly over the bulge and she blows softly on it.

This time, Grissom can't hold back his moans, shudders run through his body, he feels himself getting harder by the minute.

He hates himself for reacting like this but he can't control it; he is after all, just a man. Everybody that thinks of him as an unemotional and cold robot should see him now, he thinks and laughs to himself. Undisturbed by his inner monologue, the two vampires continue their cruel play. His belt is now open and so are his jeans. He bites his lips hard enough to draw blood as the blond takes his length out and starts to stroke it; almost gently. The brunette is licking his nipples. She bites his left one evoking little shocks of pleasure. He moans again, his migraine almost forgotten. He screams in pain as she bites it off.

--

At the end of the corridor was a tall and looming door almost hidden in the wooden panels.

Sofia and Catherine looked at each other; if they wished to go further they had to open it, but they were both too nervous about it.

So far nothing had happened and aside from the ongoing thunder storm they had heard or seen nothing.

"You know that it is stupid to be afraid to open a door?" Sofia put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"I know," Catherine said, the ghost of a smile flitted across her face.

None the less they opened the door with great caution; it wasn't locked and opened inwards revealing a dark and narrow corridor. In the far distance shone a faint light barely visible. The light turned the dark corridor into a shade of dirty gray.

They paused listening for any clue that they might not be alone, but even the storm seemed to hold its breath.

Sofia had wished for light now there was light, and she wasn't happy. The situation was unnatural and frightening even for her and she had seen many things in her career as a cop.

"What do you think," Catherine asked in a whisper. Sofia took a deep and calming breath, preparing herself for whatever might come.

"We need light, let's hope that there is no one with it." She walked through the door Catherine close on her heels. As they continued walking, the darkness grew dimmer and colors came into view; bright colors no one would have imagined in such a place.

They halted and surveyed the scenery. The only thing they saw was their shadows and that of the furniture. Only the sound of their breathing was audible.

Sofia looked around the frame of the open door where the light was brightly shining now. She was greeted by the sight of a small chamber, well small compared to the rooms they had seen so far.

It had bookshelves on one side, a chimney stood beside the door; a small desk and two chairs stood in the middle of the room facing the shelves. On top of the desk burned a candle illuminating the chamber, the rooms high windows on the side facing the door were draped in colorful violet damask.

Sofia signalled Catherine to follow her. As they entered the chamber they glanced around and were shocked speechless as they saw the face in the portrait behind the desk.

"Oh my God!" Catherine held a hand to her chest, her mouth fell open.

Sofia shook her head as if to try changing what she saw; this couldn't be real. Two beautiful brown eyes seemed to be looking directly at them. The faintest hint of a smile could be seen in the portrait of a man who looked shockingly similar to Nick.

Catherine and Sofia shared a glance, wanting to confirm from each other that they indeed saw the same portrait.

The picture hadn't changed as they looked back at it.

"This is insane! What the hell is going on here?" Catherine's voice was faint and full of utter disbelief.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know," Sofia answered. "But we can't stay here staring at this picture. If we want to find out what is going on, we have to find the others. I won't feel comfortable again until we found them." She took the chamber stick that held the candle and moved towards the door. Not turning back to see the picture of Nick or who ever it was.

Catherine followed her and together they made their way towards the next door that loomed in the far distance.

A moan stopped them in their tracks and they listened. Another moan; it was without a doubt what they thought it was. They looked at each other wondering who the hell would want to have sex in this kind of place.

--

Pain flashed through his body like bolts of lightning and tears filled his eyes; his migraine returned in full force. This must be Hell, he thought. This is what Hell feels like.

He heard hissing and screaming through his pain fogged ears and squinted into the darkness before him. The two vampires had started to fight – about him, forgotten their intentions to seduce and consume him; now he was no more than a lump of flesh.

They clawed at each other, screaming and snarling like angry cats; their eyes had turned red. The red was so vivid and burned in the darkness like the lamp of the ferryman Charon.

The pain in his left nipple had faded into the background; only his throbbing head remained, but it too became duller than before as he watched the fight between the two women. He was sure that who ever would win it would seal his doom.

He had already lost enough blood; it wouldn't take much more to finish him off. He thought of Nick and his team and hoped that they would make it out alive; he saw no hope for himself.

A victorious screech pierced the darkness. It was so loud that it even drowned the roaring thunder. The blond vampire had jumped at the canopy and then vanished, turning into a shadow. The brunette looked triumphantly at Grissom licking her teeth.

So this was it, Grissom thought as he felt her sharp teeth sink into his flesh; the pain wasn't too bad anymore or it was nothing compared to the pain he had felt before. He was amazed that his body got used to it so fast.

The hair of the vampire fell onto his face and he closed his eyes. He could feel his blood leaving his body, could hear the hungry sucking, the roar of thunder and approaching footsteps.

It was all drowned out as his heartbeat became louder and louder. With each passing second, his heart pumped his precious blood out of his body.

So loud that it felt like it was all around him.

Dodumm, dodumm, dodumm.

Faster and faster, but this time he didn't faint, this time he knew he would stay awake 'til the last drop had left his body.

He knew what would happen then; four minutes after he died his body would start to decompose. It would begin to digest itself, his cells would start to dissolve his tissue would turn into liquid, then to gas. Bacteria would come to feed on him, then flies. His beloved insects would lay their eggs in him, they would hatch and the larvae's would consume what would be left of him then leave him alone. By then his body would have become a lethal chemical brew abandoned by all living creatures. Unrecognizable, only bones left for some unfortunate soul to find. That is…if they ever did find him.

With that thought he felt the last drop leaving him; he could see the white light and then was gone.

--


	9. Chapter 9

---

They followed the passage, the darkness didn't abate before them. The way grew wider; the air smelled damper, like wet earth. Nick watched the walls grow taller; the light couldn't reach the ceiling. Greg was silent, watching Nick; he still felt embarrassed about his actions and that he had angered him. Everybody else was silent; they listened for every little sound that would tell them if they were alone or not.

Suddenly Brass stopped. "A dead end," he proclaimed, Nick's heart sank.

"What," Warrick whispered in disbelief, marching past Nick and Brass to take a look himself.

Before him rose a wall of solid brick; he put a hand on it so he could feel that it was real.

"Damn it," he muttered and glared at the wall. "What now," he asked and turned back to the others. Nick stood beside him looking at the wall himself; he touched it too, his eyebrows drawn together confused.

Warrick walked back to Brass and Greg. "We have no choice but to turn around," Brass said in a gruff voice.

"Maybe there is a secret door," Greg suggested with a childish smirk; he looked around for a hidden switch and to his surprise found one.

"Don't touch it," Nick said; he had followed Greg's gaze, but again too late. As if under a spell Greg touched the little stone button.

For a second nothing happened, everybody stood still in fear, then a creaking sound, as if stone rubbed against stone, could be heard and made them all jump.

Before Nick knew what hit him he felt the ground under him give way. He yelped as gravity took hold of him and he fell down a hole. Instinctively he grabbed around him and got hold of the edge.

"Nick!" Warrick yelled and jumped to Nick's aid.

"I gotcha," he grunted as he grabbed Nick's arms trying to raise him out of the hole. Under great effort Warrick helped Nick up. They panted from the exertion.

"No more burgers for you," Warrick said still shaking.

"Yeah" Nick agreed; he lay flat on his back breathing hard from both the struggle and the shock. After a moment of silence Nick burst forward. "I told you not to touch ANYTHING!" Greg gulped and looked sorry.

"I don't know why I did it, I really have no clue," he stammered embarrassed. Before he could say anything further a deep hiss echoed through the hallway. Another hiss and a guttural growl; it came from the pit that Nick had barely escaped from. Nick signaled Brass to give him the torch, then he crouched on his stomach at the edge of the pit and held the torch over it. What the light of the torch illuminated made him choke. Three monstrous crocodiles coiled themselves on the bottom of the hole hissing angrily.

The others had seen them as well, after they leaned carefully over the rim.

"No wonder they're angry, it doesn't look like they've had a nice, juicy man bite in a while," Brass said dryly. Nick backed away from the hole then stood up. He brushed the dust off of him and turned towards the others.

"First ghosts, then Harpies, now alligators? What the hell is this place," he asked angrily.

"Technically they're crocodiles," Greg said. "You can see that--," he never finished the sentence; Nick had launched himself forward a murderous glare on his face. Before he could reach Greg, Brass and Warrick interfered; they struggled with Nick who seemed to be determined to smash Greg into little pieces.

"I don't care, if they are crocodiles or alligators," he spat, trying to get hold of Greg, who had backed off.

"Calm down." Brass huffed.

"Calm down?" Nick almost laughed as he continued to struggle with him and Warrick. "That little bastard nearly got us killed twice," he yelled, swinging the torch dangerously but started to calm down letting himself be held by Warrick. Brass took the torch and turned to Greg.

"You better get a grip on your tongue and your twitchy hands," he growled dangerously. Greg gulped and nodded as he let himself fell against the wall.

Another rumbling started, the stone slabs closed themselves but the rumbling didn't stop.

"What did you do now?" Brass barked looking franticly around trying to find the source of the sound. Warrick and Nick braced themselves for anything that may come.

Greg yelped as the wall behind him slid backwards revealing a secret passage. He tried to hold his balance but to no success, he fell backwards hitting the ground with a muffled thud. Clouds of dusk swirled into the air.

Nick, Warrick and Brass stepped closer; Brass held the torch above their heads to illuminate the passage, at least the light reached farther than 4 feet.

"Do we really want to go that way," asked Warrick. Nick and Brass looked at him, then back behind them at the looming darkness.

A piercing scream followed by a long howl made them all jump. Without further questions they stepped into the passage following its pathway. With another rumbling the stone wall slid shut, the dull click resounded in the dark and narrow way.

They looked at each other scared and relieved at the same time. For now it seemed they were safe.

---

"Grissom."

He was dead wasn't he?

"Grissom."

Someone called his name.

"Grissom!"

More urgent, then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jerked up.

"Whoa. Calm down stallion."

He blinked rapidly; his breath came in short hitches. He turned to the voice and saw Catherine in the dim light of a candle standing beside the bed; a smug smile on her face. Sofia stood behind her, holding the candle, fighting a smirk on her face the moment their eyes meet.

"What--? How--?" He asked not able to form a coherent sentence. He was confused, he died hadn't he? Where were the two vampires? He panicked franticly looking around, but beside Catharine, Sofia and himself no one was to be seen.

He looked back at Catherine and saw that Sofia was whispering something into the shorter blond's ear. Catherine just nodded, still smirking. She faced him again the smug smile had turned into a big fat grin.

"You old dog," she drawled. "You seriously need to get laid! When we're back home I need to find you Someone." Sofia nodded in agreement, the smile back on her face.

Grissom could feel the heat starting to rise in his cheeks.

"To think, that you would have a wet dream in a dark and spooky castle, of all places. I'm really worried for your well being." She didn't look worried at all, more like she was amused to no end.

Catherine looked pointedly down at him; he followed her gaze and saw the tent in his jeans. He blushed, grabbing the nearest cushion to cover him. Sofia and Catherine snorted in amusement; it felt good and took some of the edge off.

"You'll never let me forget this," he said, his voice shaken with embarrassment.

"No stallion," she drawled, her eyes glinted mischievous. "Never, that is, if we make it out of here alive."

Grissom flinched; the dream had been so vivid, the pain still felt so fresh. He touched his neck and his chest, but everything seemed to be in order.

"What's that?" Catherine asked suddenly pointing a finger at his neck.

"What?" His hand jumped to his collarbone.

"A hickey," Sofia snorted.

"You bastard! You already have some one!" Catherine slapped him on the head. "There I was, thinking that you were a lost cause!"

"What?" Grissom repeated dumbstruck; his eyes widened in shock. "I swear on my mother's grave that I don't know where this came from." He said sincerely, almost frightened.

Sofia and Catherine looked at each other becoming serious again; their thoughts turned towards the same direction.

The creepy woman.

"You can't remember getting it?" Catherine asked as she took a closer look. Grissom shook his head. "Did you scratch yourself recently? Maybe it's a rash?" Sofia supplied.

"No."Grissom's answer was hollow, he thought of the dream. Was it a dream? But he was still alive or was Sofia and Catherine dead, too? That made no sense. He flinched as Catherine touched him.

"Sorry," she mumbled. It was definitely a hickey, she had seen enough in her life to notice one, even in the dim light of a candle. Her eyes flickered briefly towards Sofia then back to Grissom.

"We had a little encounter with a strange woman," she said calmly, though she didn't feel as calm as she wanted to.

"What?" Grissom said again, not able to think clear, but it sounded sharper than before.

"She tried to kill me," Catherine almost whispered and shivered at the thought; Sofia put a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"What!" Grissom said sharply. Catherine and Sofia rolled their eyes. His hand went automatically towards his neck. He looked at Catherine and saw fear in her blue eyes passing like a breeze, but was quickly replaced by a blast of determination.

He felt ashamed of himself for letting his fear dominate him. He shifted to the edge of the bed and stood up. He would protect her and the others that was his duty after all, as a supervisor, as a friend.

"You haven't seen the others." It was no question. The image of Nick's dead body flashed before his inner eye and he was glad that it was just a dream; he had hope now.

Catherine and Sofia shook their heads.

"No, we saw no one beside that woman."

A flare of hot anger rose in Grissom's stomach. He didn't want to imagine what he would do to that woman, if she laid so much as another finger on his team.

"We have to find the others," he said determined to find them; Catherine and Sofia nodded.

"We have to go left," Sofia said and pointed through the wall. "We came the other way up and there was a dead end."

Grissom nodded and made his way to the door, the two women followed him.


End file.
